


Sneham-Various Interactions

by icamon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I haven't written anything before, My First Fanfic, Satya finds friends, a lot of thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icamon/pseuds/icamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fic describing interactions between Satya Vaswani and some members of Overwatch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sneham-Various Interactions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing something this long. Satya is very close to my heart so I wanted to write down some of my headcanons for her. And it led to this. I hope you like reading it.
> 
> note: Sneham means friendship/love in Telugu (which I headcanon as Satya's primary language)

Symmetra really enjoys Bastion’s company. Although fully aware of the legacy of the Bastion models, she felt no apprehension when first introduced to Bastion and eventually came to develop a tender, soft spot for the curious automaton. She likes to sit by Bastion and watch Ganymede forage food. She creates little objects made of hard-light, inciting Bastion’s inquisitiveness. They roll these objects back and forth between each other, Satya enjoying the quiet rhythm of the objects clattering on her prosthetic and Bastion’s metal hand and the other mesmerized by how the irregular shapes catch and reflect light.

Satya remembers the time when a cat joined in, swatting at the hard-light items with palpable excitement. She has always been wary of animals, having watched a stray dog in the slums maul a little boy to death when she was young. The cat was… a novel experience. It didn’t fear her and seemed quite content to lie on her lap and snooze, purring with gusto. She liked the heaviness of its body slung across her thighs. It felt so alive. She felt a bubbling sense of awe. Bastion kept poking the undersides of the cat’s paw to see the claws emerge from the fluffy toes. The cat left eventually, very miffed with Bastion’s constant interruptions. It was a good memory. It always makes Satya smile.

Satya treasures quiet moments like these. They help her take a fresh breath of air. The base was rife with tensions. Everyone had secrets, grudges. They were constantly on the edge. The members weren’t the only ones with conflicts. Her emotions sometimes overwhelm her completely. She knows Lúcio's beef with Vishkar. That wasn’t what bothered her. What did was the fact that he seems to be oddly concerned about her when they were teammates during missions. He’d heal her or give her a speed boost when she’s trying to reach their defence posts to set up her turrets. He doesn’t have to. But yet he does. He treats her like he would any other member of Overwatch. He seemed to do it out of duty but she could feel the concern in his eyes when she’s injured and he releases the healing aura from his sonic gun. _Stolen,_  her mind adds. Stolen from Vishkar. These thoughts were recurring, but their stay in her mind was shorter each time. Also, she was very curious as to how he managed to convert Vishkar technology and turn it into his weapon. It’s something she will never admit but she often dreamed of the day she will figure out Lúcio Correia dos Santos’ idea and she will return to Vishkar as the prodigal daughter, with even better technology than that which was pilfered.

But…gone were the days when she’d imagine returning to Vishkar, fiercely proud and confident. She was more muted these days. Overwatch did something to her. She was so tired. Tired from missions, tired of the same western food with little to no spices, so, SO tired of everyone’s jarringly different cultures, voices, accents, clothes, everything!! Why does Tracer insist on calling her love? True, she does that to everyone, but it’s so awkward! Why call someone who Is not your lover, love? Mercy’s accent is hard to understand and why must McCree throw flashbangs indoors? Everything was exhausting sometimes. She didn’t have the time to be stand offish. She accepted her teammates at face values, not trying to dig too deep into their words, actions, motives. She was here for work.

She couldn’t find the energy to do anything but work. Her work was the centre of her life, a role fulfilled by broken toys found in donation boxes, the dance moves learnt surreptitiously through grilled windows of the neighborhood government school, Vishkar, physics, and her prosthetic arm at various points in her life. She stays for hours in the part of the workshop assigned as hers, work table filled with schematics and prototypes. She was grappling with a particularly elusive solution to one of her design problems when she first interacted with Jamison Fawkes.

Junkrat had just arrived at Gibraltar with his fellow-junker bodyguard, Roadhog. They seemed menacing and Junkrat especially seemed slightly deranged. Satya left them alone. Which was okay till Junkrat was given a table in the workshop, joining Torbjorn and herself as a builder. He didn’t build turrets, he made bombs and grenades. Which would have been fine if only he didn’t insist on testing everything without proper precautions. After the 3rd explosion followed by mad giggling, Satya cursed out aloud in her native tongue and stormed off, grabbing her blueprint and glaring daggers at Junkrat. She went to sit in a quiet spot on the outer fringes of their base. She wished Bastion was there with her, big and comforting, crooning soft bleep-bloop noises and watching Ganymede together. Fate had a different idea of company for her.

Junkrat, or "Jamison Fawkes _"_ , she intoned, as he hobbled over to her, grinning widely and carrying- wait, was he carrying one of her schematics? With those soot-covered hands? Satya bristles as he casually sits next to her. He seems to have some difficulty sitting on the ground, with his artificial limb and all but that didn’t seem to bother him one bit. He tossed the schematic at her and she was appalled to find scribbles all over it. "Figured ya needed some help", said Jamison, his voice thick with his Australian accent. She blankly started at him, eyes wide, not quite catching his words. He frowned and motioned at the paper with his eyes. Satya immediately, furiously, went over the pencil marks over her neat, labelled diagrams. Her heart quickened in pace. No way. Was the solution really that simple? What about the mechanics? Is this even possible? Questions flood her mind, and after 3 minutes and 15 seconds of intense frowning, incoherent muttering, sharp glances towards the lean man next to her, she let out a deep sigh. He has given her the solution.

_"How?_  ",she croaks out, loathing that she has to ask him, this unwashed rag of a madman. He probably did this as a fluke. She expected him to stutter or be evasive. To her amazement, however, he explained every scribble quite articulately, pointing to various parts of his prosthetic arm and leg to further elaborate his point. Satya was completely taken aback. She prided herself in her ability to visualize solutions and build elegant structures, with seemingly no effort. She liked talking to people like herself. Torbjörn was interesting to talk to. She often discussed technical stuff with him. She respected him a lot but Jamison Fawkes was different. Jamison’s unconventional methods intrigued her. She had never tasted intrigue. She liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Vargrimar and Nezkah for inspiring me and also for taking the time to go through it and offer advice. ;A; 
> 
> If you guys want to talk about Satya, Overwatch or anything else, I can be found on tumblr @fusronyaa ^^ Also, I am absolute Junkmetra/Symmrat trash >;3


End file.
